Don’t Look Any Further
by Rubine Goslay
Summary: What if the events of Orison took place while Scully was partnered with Doggett? AU, DSF/DSR.
1. Chapter 1

Summary- For this story, I ask you to imagine that the events of "Orison" took place while John Doggett was Scully's partner. There is no baby, Mulder is missing and presumed dead. This story is DSF/DSR, if that's not your cup of tea, than this story isn't for you.

AN- Thanks to my beta, Dana Katherine.

Chapter One- Admonitio

Sleep lost its tenuous grasp on Dana Scully twenty three minutes before the sunlight would dare to crawl over her window sills. In her black bedroom, her blurry eyes found the red glare of her alarm clock. It flashed 6:66. Her grogginess vanished and she examined the clock, tapping it quizzically until the numbers suddenly returned to normal. Of all the things she has seen in the last seven years, a malfunctioning clock, however demonically, was no surprise.

A few hours later at work, she greeted her partner. John Doggett. She was paired with him about a year ago, shortly after Mulder went missing. In the early stages of their relationship, she trusted him as one would a rabid animal, and treated him as such. But over time, as he saved her life again and again, she came to realize that he was a solid agent, as good as his word, and that his only agenda was to protect her in every way possible. They became friends, often spending time together outside of work. He had never made a move, but she sensed that he would like it to be something more. This intrigued her, but as close as she'd let him become, she was unsure of how much closer she was willing to let him be. Life, up until this point had been unmerciful, and she had no reason to believe it would improve.

Years ago, she'd dreamed of getting married and having a normal life with a man like Doggett, but those dreams seemed like they belonged to a past life now. She'd been immersed in the X-Files for so long that commonality had become fantasy. And with Mulder gone, she was the only one left to pursue the truth. She had never expected her life to turn out this way, but she couldn't find any alternative. The X-Files was her burden now. At least she didn't have to bear it alone.

Scully looked at her tall partner and thought how good he looked in navy. He brought her coffee, just the way she likes it. It wasn't long before they were called into Skinner's office. Scully sat next to Doggett and having grown accustomed, even comfortable with his presence, she made no attempt to monitor her body language, and she crossed her legs so that her toes pointed toward his flat feet. He noticed and cherished the small act of closeness, having over time, managed to earn her trust and ease her hyperactive defense mechanisms.

They both thought this would be a normal briefing. At least normal for the X-Files. They were wrong. Skinner told them that Donnie Pfaster had escaped from prison. The man who liked to keep women's severed fingers with his frozen peas, the man who abducted Scully. Their new assignment was to find out how he escaped and return him to justice.

Immediately, Doggett tried to think of a way to get Scully off the case without implying that she wasn't tough enough to face him again, which he knew she was. But he also knew from reading the case file how profoundly Pfaster affected her psyche. He knew that one of his deepest, most desperate desires for Scully was for her to not have to be strong all the time, for her to have a space for a human life outside of the insanity of the X-Files. He looked over at her, gauging her reaction. To her credit, she was able to control her expression; she succeeded in feigning a calm façade.

Doggett, being a man who prefers to stop a problem before it escalates into disaster, suggested that this case might be more suitable for him and Agent Reyes, owing to the personal circumstances involved. Scully shot him a look, which he had anticipated and he was ready to accept her anger if it meant that Skinner might let her stay in Washington. Her wrath was well worth the cost of her safety. Unfortunately, Skinner thought that Scully's personal experience with the man might help, and since she had no objection she was on the case. Skinner excused them and sent them on their way to the twin cities.

Upon leaving, Scully tried to outpace him but failed.

"Dana, what I said in there, what I meant was that you shouldn't have to go through this again. I know I wasn't there the first time, I know I wasn't there when he abducted you, but I got a sense from readin' that file that this is something you need to stay away from." Scully turned and looked at him, noticed the boyish fear in his eyes, the plain fear of seeing a loved one hurt. She ignored it. In the months they had worked together, he had always managed to see her at her worst, at her most vulnerable. She wanted to prove to him that she was strong, blissfully unaware that he was already well acquainted with this knowledge. They reached their office and he closed the door behind them.

"John, I'm just trying to do my job," was her brush off.

"I know you are Dana, an' I'm tryin' to do mine too. Just hear me out before you make a commitment to this case. Why don' you sit down." His gravely voice was even and earnest. She begrudgingly complied, sat down and crossed her arms and legs. "Look, this hasn't exactly been an easy year for you. You lost Mulder, and you lost your baby. That's two tragic, devastating losses in a short period of time. The last thing you need right now is have to go through all this again with Pfaster. I want you to stay here; I promise I can tackle this case with Monica. I promise I'll put him away for you."

Scully uncrossed her arms and legs and rose, fighting a strong urge to hug him, fighting even more fiercely an urge to obey. The idea of facing Pfaster again terrified her, but she couldn't show him her fear. If he knew how afraid she was, he'd never let her go, and she needed to go with him. The only thing worse than facing him again was letting him remain free.

"John, I understand your apprehension to have me on this case but there is one thing that I need you to understand." She leveled her gaze on him. "Donnie Pfaster is a monster. He does things to people that no one should have to think about, and it's not in spite of, but because of what he's done to me that I need to be a part of the team that returns him to justice. I don't have a choice. And I need you to know that I can do this." She reached out and took hold of his hand. He squeezed it softly and brushed his thumb over her knuckles.

"I know you can. But the second you want out of this case, I want you on a plane back home, ok?"

**********

Scully maintained an uneasy silence until they were about half way there, fearing he would object again, but he didn't. She tried to remember when a man had been so overprotective of her and she failed. It almost made her smile. Doggett ended the taciturnity.

"Look, we got some more time on this flight, why don't you fill me in a little?"

"Well, for a start, you may be more suited for this case because it's complete lack of supernatural elements. There is nothing special about Donnie Pfaster, he can't shape-shift, he's not an alien hybrid, he can't even see though walls." Doggett appreciated her ability to find even the slightest bit of humor in this line of work, her ability to laugh a little at herself.

"Upon psychiatric profiling, we found that Pfaster's deep hatred of women most likely stemmed from being the only male in an all female family, and that he felt oppressed and dominated by the women in his life, yet he didn't know how to live without female presence. As a way to satisfy his need for revenge and his need for feminine objects, he developed a fetish, most likely starting with the collecting of hair through his job at a local funeral home. This he was able to collect discretely, but it wasn't long before his desire for these fetish objects grew. He exhumed and desecrated a body in 1995, taking the hair and fingernails of the corpse. At that point, he was classified as an escalating fetishist. His desire for these objects could no longer be satisfied by decaying material; his compulsions would soon drive him to seek living samples. A few days after the grave desecration, he murdered a prostitute and collected her hair and fingers."

She paused for a moment to look at Doggett, who was watching her intently, his steely blue eyes worn with compassion. She looked away and continued. "Agent Mulder and I were called onto the case because the desecrated body was originally thought to have possible alien connections, but we quickly discovered that wasn't the case. We stayed on to assist the agents in Minneapolis, but unfortunately he was able to kill five women before we apprehended him." She looked up at him and he was still watching her with that look on his face. The emotionality of it derailed her consequent approach and she faltered. "...and that's about it," she murmured.

"You didn't tell me about the other part," he said softly.

"What other part?"

"The part where he abducted you."

"It's in the case file, Agent Doggett, which I know you have read."

"What happened to John?"

Scully's jaw lowered slightly and she tilted her head, eyes moving side to side as if looking for the words to say when the stewardess interrupted with their drink orders. Doggett thanked her, took the two cups of water and handed one to Scully.

"Your not goin' to throw that in my face, now, are ya?"

Eyes down, she smiled and looked up at him. "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be. It was very refreshing."

**********

AN- While writing this I tried to keep in mind that some dynamics of Scully's and Doggett's relationship are counter to hers and Mulder's; mainly that when she is paired with Doggett, she is the believer and he is the skeptic, so in this version of events she fills in Mulder's role while maintaining some level of vulnerability.

Reviews welcome!


	2. Explicatus

Chapter Two- Explicatus

At the prison, Scully gave the detectives the same run down she gave Doggett. The detectives explained that Pfaster managed to simply walk out of a maximum security institution at 6:06 in the morning. Additionally, he was the third inmate to escape within the last month. When they were done with the initial briefing, Scully confided in Doggett that Pfaster's time of escape coincided exactly with the time she awoke.

"An' what significance do you think that has?" He asked, his gritty voice low and patient. He had hoped that she was right, that there would be nothing supernatural about this case and suddenly grew wary that there would be.

"When I first woke up and looked at my alarm clock, the numbers briefly read 666. I know it could have easily been a temporary electronic malfunction brought on by a brief power outage, but I also think there could be significant religious connotations to that event."

"If you're tryin' to say that Pfaster is evil, I'm with you on that. But whether or not it was some kind of divine warning, that I can't say. Why don't we just try and focus on catching this scum?"

She agreed. They interviewed an inmate who was part of an incident preceding Pfaster's escape. He claimed to have witnessed his fingers being severed in the prison's garment shop. Scully noted the inmate's repetition of the phrase "glory, amen". On instinct, she raised and lowered her hand. His response was to repeat the phrase on her gesticular command. Doggett eyed the transaction, confused. Outside the interview room he questioned her. "Now just what in the hell was that?"

"My guess is that it's a post hypnotic suggestion."

"Suggested by whom?"

"By the only man who had contact with all three of the recent escapees, a Reverend Orison."

"The Reverend?"

"Agents!" The local detective interrupted. "We just got a sighting at a local diner."

Doggett's insides seemed to be grinding against each other at the fresh prospect of her facing her attacker again and he silently vowed that he would be quick to be the first one out of the car, the first to enter the dinner, the first to die if it had to be that way. He glanced at Scully. "Let's go."

At the scene, Doggett, normally one to hold the door for her, slid out of the car and into the diner as fast as humanly possible, Scully following just behind. He recognized him immediately from the file folder, Donald Pfaster, in all his sick glory, accompanied by the Reverend. Doggett approached him, taking note of all the innocent bystanders, with one hand on his badge and the other on his gun. He kept his elbows out at an angle to prevent Scully from passing him.

"Donnie Pfaster, you are under arrest…"

Before he knew what was happening, she was in his grasp, his hands closed around her throat as she tried to scream. He squeezed her so hard that her neck seemed to disappear behind his thick fingers, as if he meant to snap her spine. "DANA!" Doggett yelled, throwing himself towards her to rip his filthy fingers away, but the Reverend put his hand on Pfaster's shoulder, swung his keychain around in circles, muttered something, and the two men were gone as if they never were.

"Dana!?" Doggett's arms bolted out to catch her as she stumbled. They were gone. She coughed and sputtered, his eyes leaped from her to where her attacker stood moments ago. "Dana? Are you ok?" She nodded, suddenly breathing as if she had never been choked. "What in the hell just happened?"

"Hypnotic suggestion," she spoke, clearly addled. "I think we need to go back to the prison and go over Orison's records." Concern blazed in his eyes, he scanned her throat for marks or redness and found none. No one in the diner seemed to have noticed a thing.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," She stammered. She couldn't meet his gaze.

Back at the prison, they discovered that Orison had not only served time for murder, but that he undertook elective, possibly self inflicted surgery to increase the oxygen flow to his brain. Scully explained to Doggett her theory that it was the increase in oxygen that allowed him to manipulate the perception of others.

"So even if that's true, what happened at the diner? How'd he get to you so fast?"

"What I'm suggesting is that that event did not take place, that the event, and their disappearance was suggested to us by Reverend Orison."

"So he never touched you? The Reverend made us think it was happening so it would give them time to escape?"

"Yes, that is my theory." She surmised, her eyes downcast and her fingers unconsciously touched her throat.

He watched her delicate fingers as anger ticked inside him. "I got a theory too, Dana. That this monster is after you, an' as bad as you want to get to him, he wants to get to you even more, to finish what he started all those years ago. Damn it, Dana," he started to lose control at the possibly unreal memory of his vile hands on her, and at the prospect that it could happen again. "In almost every case we worked on together it's been you callin' the shots, an' now I'm makin' one of my own. I want you on the next plane outta here. You need to go someplace safe, you been through more than enough already, an' I say it's time you went home."

She noted again the glint of fear in his eyes, even as rebellion bubbled in her. "I told you that I could handle this," she said quietly, focused on a dust ball in the corner.

He lowered his voice to match her tone. "Than look me in the eye. Look me in the eye and say you can."

Defiantly, she raised her wide open eyes to his only to find to her horror that they were rapidly filling with tears.

"Oh, Dana, sweetie, c'mere…"

He stepped forward toward her but she imploded, ashamed at her weakness.

"No. You want me off this case, Doggett, you got it."

He called after her as she fled the room, leaving him filled with a stinging satisfaction that she would be safe, bitterly tainted by her rejection.

Emptiness clanged through his arms and he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

'Why did I have to call her sweetie?'


	3. Rumex

Chapter Three- Rumex

AN- Song in this chapter, lyrics are in _italics._ This chapter is short, sorry. More to come soon.

Doggett called her to make sure she arrived home ok; her responses were clipped. If she hadn't known it would drive him insane with worry, she wouldn't have bothered to answer his calls at all. Guilt slithered through her fingers as she snapped her phone shut, cutting him off when he said, "Call me if anything…"

She knew he had been right; he'd been right from the start that she didn't belong on the case. But she wanted to be brave. She wanted to prove that she could do anything. And it killed her that she couldn't.

In Minneapolis, Doggett continued to work nonstop with the local detectives to find Pfaster to no resolve. All of the places they thought he might run to turned up empty. It seemed like he had disappeared completely until they received a call leading them to Orison's body. Donnie killed him.

A trace of the late Reverend's credit cards revealed a final purchase- a one way ticket to Washington DC. Pfaster was headed for the capitol, headed for Scully. Doggett knew it by well honed instinct, and he followed immediately. Inexpressible dread clawed through him as he called Scully. She didn't answer. Hot panic pooled in his stomach as he left a warning on her voicemail.

Just coming home from a dull, Doggett-less day at work, Scully saw that she had three messages. The first said that Orison was dead. At the same time, a song came on the radio that she hadn't heard in years.

_Don't look any further…_

The second message was also from John: "Look, Dana, I'm sorry about what happened at the prison. I want you to know that I'm gonna take care of this…"

_Some one to count on, in a world of change, here I am, stop where you're standin'_

"I'll be on this case as long as it takes to make sure he never hurts anyone again. An' I know you're pissed with me right now, but I want you to know that I know you're strong, but you don't have to be strong all the time…"

_What you need is a lover, a man to take over, oh girl, don't look any further_

"Just let me take care of this for you. Call me when you get this."

She let his voice wash over her and allowed a tear to cascade shamelessly down her cheek. She knew she'd been too hard on him, on herself, and she was about to ignore the last message and hit the redial button to tell him this when Pfaster emerged from her closet.

On his way out of the BWI airport, Doggett answered his cell. It was from the Minneapolis sheriff he had been working with. "Agent Doggett, I just got a call from a local escort service, saying that he ordered a girl over last night and got angry when he found out she wasn't a real red head. Does this mean anything to you?"

Rage so physical it was almost painful crackled through his body, and for the first time since he lost his son he felt more than capable of taking a human life. He called for back up and drove to Scully's apartment at double the speed limit, his heart rate increased every time he called and she didn't answer, her calm recorded voice betraying the peril she was surely in, 'This is Dana Scully, leave a message…'

AN- Evil cliffhanger, mwah ha ha!

The song in this chapter was "Don't Look Any Further" by Dennis Edwards.


	4. Ultilionis

Chapter Four- Ultilionis

AN- Warning- prepare yourself for violence. Thanks for all the reviews, Jude, I love you.

Momentarily paralyzed by shock, Scully took in the horrifying normalcy of her surprise guest. He had a typical height, an average build, an ordinary face. The most disturbing aspect of Pfaster was his ability to be undistinguishable from normal men. Nothing about his appearance betrayed the killer lurking within; no outward sign appeared to warn the unsuspecting observer of the violence he was capable of, except the pathological leer in his eye, the creeping glint of bloodlust.

Scully screamed as loud as she could, shoved Pfaster with all her might and ran for the door, but he caught her by her arm and yanked her back with a jolt and landed a merciless blow to her temple. White spots blurred before her and pain sogged her mind, but she managed to deliver a kick to his groin that stopped him temporarily. Her vision still impaired by his punch, she navigated her way out of her bedroom and into the hallway by memory, but she could hear him following behind. She grabbed the rail of a bookshelf and pulled it down, desperate to make a border between her and Pfaster, desperate to escape the man who had nearly killed her once before, and she found her thoughts inexplicably gravitating toward Doggett. While she knew she should be focused on her own survival, her mind helplessly drifted toward her partner. She focused on his image, on what she was going to say to him moments ago, on what could have been if she could only make it through this…

Pfaster made his way through the obstruction, lifted her bodily and threw her into a mirror. It shattered behind her back and shards slashed her skin. She groaned, swept a table lamp into her hands and broke it over his head, the last manifestation of her strength as she slid to the floor. He loomed over her and slid down until they were face to face. He seized her hands and pinned them down. Blood from his forehead dripped onto hers. He bent further and licked it off. She whined in disgust of the contact of his tongue on her skin. "You're all I think about, girly girl." He taunted. He released one hand to stroke her hair and she started to scream, hoping someone would hear. He clamped his hand over her mouth, flipped her over and slammed her face into the floor. She felt blood gush from her nose. He started to tear her shirt away to use as a gag. He examined her long, pristine fingers. "Who does your nails, girly girl?" He cooed as he tore her top to shreds, bound her, gagged her, and stuffed her in her closet while he went to draw a bath and examine her cutlery.

In the pitch black closet, Scully felt a slickness between her bare back and the wall that she knew to be her own blood as she squirmed to unto her makeshift shackles.

Doggett arrived at Scully's apartment building about the same time the cavalry did, but he insisted on going first, accompanied by two other agents, three more set to follow close behind. He knew it was the fastest way, but it was still the slowest and most agonizing elevator ride of his life as he imagined all the horrible things that could be happening to his partner. His heart pounded and his mind remained focused on Scully.

They broke down the door. Doggett charged in flanked by the pair of agents, his gun drawn, his eyes sweeping the living room for her. He heard a noise from the kitchen and ran towards it.

Pfaster was in the kitchen holding a knife; Doggett trained his gun on him and bellowed for him to drop his weapon. He did, and as it clanged to the floor, Scully emerged from the bedroom half naked and bleeding, left of the kitchen halfway in between where Doggett and Pfaster stood. Doggett's eyes leapt to Scully and he shouted her name, overjoyed that she was alive and disturbed that she had stumbled between them.

Pfaster took advantage of his distraction, and made a final attempt to seize the object of his obsession, meaning to use her as a shield, but as he lunged forward and his arms darted out to grab her, a single round fired from Doggett's service weapon, and Pfaster was never able to touch her again.

He fell dead on the floor. Doggett quickly took off his jacket and wrapped it around her body, covering her exposed flesh. "Dana," he whispered, breathing hard. Her eyes were vacant and dazed as if she didn't know where she was. "Somebody get an EMT!" He hollered over his shoulder. He grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and started to dab some of the blood from her face. "Dana, Dana honey are you ok?" He asked tenderly, his voice full of concern, his forehead deeply furrowed; he placed his hands gingerly on her upper arms and peered into her nebulous eyes, desperate to find her in there.

Her unsteady gaze wandered into his and the mist began to clear. "John?" She asked as if just realizing he was there. Slowly the pieces started to fit as she took in her ravaged apartment, the body on the floor and the agents flitting around. As she began to remember what happened, and what almost happened, tears started to brim in her eyes, but this time she let him brush them away. She let him wrap his arms around her, she let her head fall to his chest, and she allowed sobs to wrack through her as he rocked her, held her tightly and whispered that everything was going to be ok.

Tension ebbed out of Doggett, finally feeling her in his arms, knowing that she was going to be alright. But as much as he wanted to hold his beautiful partner, he knew that she was in need of medical attention now.

"Come on. Let's get you checked out." The EMT's had arrived.

Mercifully, Scully's injuries were not that serious. She had suffered a minor concussion, but her nose wasn't broken and the bleeding had stopped. The cuts on her back were superficial and did not require stitches. Doggett remained by her side while the EMT's examined her, and when they finished, he asked them do it again, "just to make sure."

Soon her back was cleaned up, Doggett was finally satisfactorily convinced of her health, and all of the circumambient case work was finished and agent after agent left the scene until they were alone.

Scully sat on her couch with Doggett's jacket replaced on her and he knelt down by her side. "Pretty big mess. I'd say from the looks of it that you put up a pretty good fight."

"I know." She sighed, holding an icepack to her temple. "And I really loved that bookshelf."

"Don't worry. I'll help you clean it up. But for tonight I think it's best to get you outta here. Will you come stay with me?"

"Yes," she answered, relieved that the ordeal was over, and that she was going to go somewhere she felt safe, with the only one who made her feel safe.

"Good. I'll help you pack a bag." Pride surged in him, pride for how fiercely she fought for survival, pride that he was able to save her life, pride that she was now trusting him to take care of her, the woman he silently loved.


	5. Salvus

Chapter Five- Salvus

AN- Time for some shameless fluff.

Doggett opened the passenger side door for her and placed her suitcase in the back. He climbed in, started the engine, and stole a glance at Scully. She was still wearing his jacket; she decided she'd rather shower and change at his place.

His place. Although he was furious with himself that Pfaster was allowed to hurt her, and the long familiar unrest of having taken a human life, however malevolent, weighed on him, he was largely at peace because whatever the cost, she was safe now, and she was with him.

For a year now he vied for the position of her protector and seemed closer than ever to landing it. She was in his truck, on the way to stay with him for the night. Male pride swept through him at the thought. Scully was an excessively independent woman; she could have stayed home, or gone to her Mother's, but she chose to go with him. He knew it meant she trusted him, that she felt safe with him, and he would have enjoyed exploring what else it could mean, but he was focused on her wellbeing too much to start fantasizing.

Scully watched his knuckles pace over the steering wheel; she felt the steady way he handled his truck, never driving too fast or too slow. The EMT gave her some good painkillers, and it was starting to take effect. She felt the aches ease out of her body, her mind becoming more tranquil the further away they drove from her apartment, and the closer they got to Doggett's home. She suspected that had little to do with the drugs. During the course of their friendship, she had been over enough for dinners, movies, that she felt comfortable there. She had picked out her favorite spot in the living room, on the left side of the couch. She favored a soft brown afghan that was there one time, and afterwards it could always be found neatly folded in her spot whenever she came over.

She remembered the first time she visited his house. It was shortly after Mulder had disappeared and she came over to talk to Doggett about it. It was the first time she'd seen him outside of work, in his own element. She came to discuss something factual, a possible sighting, but she remembered a certain twinge she felt about his absolute presence, his even stare, the way he made her feel when she was vulnerable, like it was ok for her to be vulnerable. Emotionally, she was always armed to the teeth, never showing anyone an ounce of weakness, but with him it was different. He never made her feel like she had to be impenetrable; he made her feel like it was ok to be human. And on that memorable afternoon, she wanted to cry, knowing Mulder was gone, knowing she might not ever get him back. But she couldn't allow herself the release. She thought of Mulder now, and wondered what evil she could have possibly done to lose him, and what possible good she'd done to gain Doggett. It almost made her smile.

Upon arriving at Falls Church, Doggett helped Scully out of the truck and carried her suitcase inside, bringing it upstairs to his bedroom. Before she got in the shower, he asked her if she was hungry. They immediately agreed on pizza; now if anytime was the time for comfort food. He showed her where the towels were and called to place an order. He knew he had to give her some privacy, but he didn't want to stray out of ear shot incase she couldn't figure out how to turn the water on, incase the sight of her bruised body triggered some response, incase she exacerbated an injury, incase aliens came in through the window, so he loitered in a nearby room under the pretense of cleaning. The shower turned on and he listened until it shut off and she shuffled around his room. "Oh, damn." He heard her say. He walked to his open bedroom door and stood just outside it.

"Is something wrong?"

"Um, John? Could you come in here?" Embarrassment stained her voice.

He complied in a flash and was stunned to find her in nothing but one of his towels.

"Some of the bandages got wet. Do you have anything…"

"Yeah, I do, go on an' sit down on the bed." He went into the bathroom, rolled up his sleeves, washed his hands, fetched the necessary supplies and returned. She sat on the edge of the bed with her back facing him, and slid the towel down, arranging it so it covered her backside and her front while it left her back exposed for him. He sat down behind her and examined her, trying not to think about the smoothness of her creamy flesh, that the only thing between him and a naked Scully was one piece of terry cloth. He carefully removed the wet bandages.

"Tell me what to do, doc."

"Just put some iodine on it, antibiotic cream and then a new bandage."

"Isn't that going to sting?"

"I'll live."

He soaked some cotton balls in iodine and gingerly blotted her wounds. He heard her take a sharp inhale at the burn, and he instantly placed a large hand flush above her hip, pressing with sureness, moving in a slow, deep circle. "Shhhshsh." He whispered and moved closer to her.

She wanted to gasp again at the contact, but it worked. All she could feel was the heat and subtle pressure from his hand; she couldn't feel the burn of the iodine anymore as he attentively cleaned her cuts. Her back sensitized, she could feel the heat radiating from his body and she closed her eyes. He put the cotton ball down and began to rub antibiotic cream on her skin perhaps a few moments longer than necessary.

"Does that feel better?" He asked quietly as he applied new bandages.

"Yes. It does, thank you." She turned around to face her doctor. She saw the warmth in his eyes and hoped he didn't find the astonishment in hers. She'd seen him in action on cases; she'd seen how feral of a fighter he could be, but she had no idea how devoted of a caregiver he could be until now.

"You're welcome." He reached out and ran a hand down her unclothed arm, letting it linger a moment over her hand. "Why don't you get dressed."

"Um, John, I forgot to pack a pajama top."

"That's ok. Look in the second drawer, there's some t-shirts in there, take any one you want."

"Thanks." She felt stupid for it, but she felt sad as he left the room, even knowing she'd see him again in a matter of minutes, there was something so reassuring about his presence that she didn't want to lose it for a second.

He went downstairs to get money ready for the delivery boy, and when she came down she was wearing his grey, long sleeved marines t-shirt, which hung to the middle of her thigh. Her legs were clad in soft blue pajama bottoms. Her hair was wet and she looked very small. He stepped toward her.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, his low, gravely voice posed in gentle tones rinsed though her and made her feel cleaner than any shower could.

"A little better." She looked at his hands and suddenly wished they were touching her again when the doorbell rang.

"Pizza's here."


	6. Nocens Somnium

Chapter Six- Nocens Somnium

AN- Shameless fluff continues

They ate in amity, discussing light topics and watching a classic Swartzenager flick. Scully cuddled her brown afghan and although she felt she was recovering from her ordeal, she also felt an awkward tension between them because of the unspoken words that lay under her tongue. She thought about the things she wanted to say to him, but the moment didn't seem quite right. Confessions and pepperoni just didn't seem to mesh. After eating, they turned out the lights to watch the rest of the movie. She wanted to move toward him, to feel again the serenity of his embrace, but she wanted to be prudent. She told herself that his presence should be enough.

Doggett grew jealous of his afghan. His arms twitched with a mind of their own, wanting to reach out to her, but he knew she was a proud woman and he didn't want to assume.

The movie ended and Scully yawned, "That's one of my favorites."

"Me too. You sound exhausted Dana, are you about ready for bed?"

She yawned again. "Yeah. I think so."

"Ok. You take my room. I'll crash here."

"Are you sure? I can stay on the couch."

"No, no no. You get upstairs and get yourself some rest. Just come get me if you need anything, ok?"

"Ok." In the dark, he dared. He hugged her and planted a kiss on top of her head.

"You gonna be ok?"

"Yes John," she lied. "I'll be fine," she said as the kiss burned into her scalp. She went upstairs and wrapped his sheets around her. Downstairs, he covered himself with her afghan. Both slept shallowly, briefly, until a sharp scream rent the cool night air.

Scully was dreaming.

"DANA??" Doggett threw his cover off and bolted upstairs to her. He threw open the bedroom door and saw her thrashing in the bed, sheets tangled around her.

"GET OFF ME!!" She shrieked. He flicked on the lights and dashed over to her, he pulled the covers away. He called her name and grabbed her arms, hoping to wake her, but she only winced and wailed louder. Agonized, he knew that she thought he was Pfaster. He hated to do it, but he shook her.

"Dana! Open your eyes!"

Bewildered, her eyes flashed open. She froze and stared at him while her chest heaved with residual adrenalin.

"You were dreamin', honey. It was just a dream." He wished he could stop himself from blurting out terms of endearment, but she didn't seem to mind. Her frantic breathing slowed and he clasped her to him, one arm draped protectively across her small back, the other hand cupped the base of her skull. The fiery silk of her hair flitted through his fingers. "It was just a dream. He's never gonna hurt you again." His voice was thick with care and intent.

Her anxiety transitioned from confusion into abashment. "Oh John. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." Behind his back she quickly wiped a hot tear away. She screwed her eyes closed and thought of all the trouble she put him through while she guiltily enjoyed the feeling of his arms around her, the feeling of his fingers slipping through her hair. She also remembered the things she was going to say to him earlier, that she hadn't had a chance to.

"Shh, you got nothin' to be sorry about. You're my partner, lookin' out for you is my job."

"But there's more to it than that, isn't there?" She asked simply, rhetorically. She delicately withdrew herself from him to look into his eyes. Stunned by the implication, Doggett felt the oxygen evaporate from his lungs. Before he could respond, she continued. "I was about to call you today before Pfaster interrupted. I got your voicemail, and there was something I wanted to tell you."

She paused. "What was it?" he prompted.

"That I've been too hard on you. And on me. And that you were right, I never should have been on the case in the first place, as much as I wish I was, I wasn't emotionally prepared to face him again, but I wanted to help you, and I wanted to put him away."

She looked like she wanted to say more but couldn't find the words. He found them for her. "You're sayin' that you wanted to be strong."

"Yes."

"For who?"

"For you, for me, for the women of Minneapolis…"

"Dana, I know you're strong. I've seen you survive more in one year than most people could endure in a lifetime. But being strong isn't just about enduring; it's more than just facin' your fears. Bein' strong is about having courage, and it takes as much courage to admit to a weakness as it does to confront one. It was brave of you to try and face him, but you show your true bravery now by lettin' me know how it affected you, by lettin' me see your hurt, and by lettin' me help you."

Quiet gasps of air escaped Scully's mouth, emotion knotted her forehead. She couldn't remember the last time she willingly allowed someone to see her vulnerable. A year ago, Doggett had seen her break down after confronting an alien bounty hunter; he scooped her off the floor and held her then but she hid her face. She didn't hide now.

She looked into his eyes and made no attempt to conceal her fears. She let a single tear leak from her eye and he stroked it away. He held her again and let her cry, let her experience the long awaited cathartic joy of letting someone love you.

They stayed like that for a long while, her head tucked into the hallow of his shoulder, he rubbed her back and whispered soothing words until she was quiet and still.

Then he admitted, "Look, the way I see it, Pfaster was determined to get to you no matter what. The only thing that's important now is that he wasn't able to finish what he started."

"And I have you to thank for that." Her clear blue eyes smiled at him.

He reached out and smoothed the hair on the side of her face back, and noted the swollen lump on her forehead. "I only wish I could have gotten there sooner."

Exhausted, she closed her eyes and tried to stay calm, but images from her nightmare flashed before her, Pfaster pushing her down, choking her, cutting her fingers. She opened her eyes and saw Doggett watching her with concernment. Weakness snaked through her and died. If strength was asking for help went help was needed, than she was ready to be strong.

"John? Will you stay here with me tonight?"

"Of course. Do you think you're ready to go back to sleep?"

"Yeah."

He stood up to close the door and flip off the lights. She slid over to make room for him. He lifted the covers and slid underneath. His arms found her in the dark and pulled her to him.

"C'mere…"


	7. Aura

Chapter Seven- Aura

AN- Shameless fluff gets even worse

Sunlight sparkled through the window and danced on John Doggett's arm, which was wrapped around Scully's body. Consciousness stirred in him; his first perception of the day was the lovely smell of her hair. He felt her warm back flush against his chest; her legs layered over his. One hand splayed over her stomach, the other entwined with hers, bathed in the sunbeam. It was the most enchanting spoon of his life. He savored the feel of the petite body against his own, serenely knowing that it belonged to the woman he loved, knowing that as long as they stayed like this, no harm could ever come to her.

She moved slightly and made a small noise of waking, but instead she turned over in her sleep, buried her face in his chest and made another small noise of contentment. It made him chuckle softly, he folded his arms around her again and they both slept a little longer.

When Scully woke, she did not immediately know who she was. It wasn't the difference in surroundings. She didn't know who she was because she couldn't remember the last time she woke up and felt so divinely at peace. She was accustomed to waking up to find the long familiar feelings of dread, of wear, but she felt utterly restored and unreasonably safe.

'Maybe he was exposed in Lebanon to a chemical that fused with his bloodstream, and through bodily contact he can increase the serotonin levels in others…this has to be supernatural. How could I feel so good after what happened yesterday?'

It had been a long time since Scully had shared a bed with a man, even if they hadn't made love. Thinking he was asleep, she risked waking him by sending her hand on an exploratory mission to examine the hardness of his pectoral muscles. It was worth it.

"Hey. You awake?" He asked softly.

"Hmmm?" She asked, surprised. "Yeah." She waited until the shades of red slipped from her face before she raised it to him.

"How did you sleep?"

"Better than I have in a long time." She answered honestly.

"Good. How are you feeling?" He ran a hand carefully over her back to make sure the bandages were still in place. He eyed her nose, which was still a little swollen. He kissed it.

"Unbelievably good." She continued in this open vein. Unwittingly, her eyes posed a seductive frame as she stroked his chest.

"Yeah?" He felt his pulse thicken as he watched her eyes dilate, her plump lips part. He raised a calloused hand to caress her cheek, watching with astonishment the obvious pleasure she derived from this simple contact. Gravity seemed to pull his mouth toward hers, and then, a ring at the door bell.

"Where you expecting any one?"

"No. Maybe its Skinner, come to check on you." He wanted to ignore it and focus on what could happen here, but she seemed alarmed, and the doorbell rang again. "I'll go see who it is."

He reluctantly but dutifully climbed out of bed and made his way downstairs. The doorbell rang for a third time. "I'm comin', I'm comin." He said to no one.

Without looking through the pane, he unlocked the door and swung it open, thinking that this had better be good.

"Mulder??!!"

AN- Mwhahahal!


	8. Insperatus

Chapter Eight- Insperatus

AN- Last chapter. Shameless fluff reaches criminal proportions.

Shock coursed though Doggett's body as he tried to comprehend that Fox Mulder was standing on his doorstep, that the man he was in charge of finding had unexpectedly found him.

Defenses kicked in at the memory of seeing him fall over a cliff, watching him fall to his death, only to get up and walk away. Was this really Fox Mulder, or an alien bounty hunter? And which was worse?

"Agent Doggett?" He presumed, clearly agitated. "You are Agent Scully's current partner?" Doggett nodded, dumbfounded. "I'm here because I received intelligence that Donnie Pfaster escaped from prison, and I have reason to believe he's after my former partner. I went to her apartment, but it's clear he was already there. Do you have any information as to the whereabouts of Pfaster or Agent Scully?"

"You're a little behind the times, Agent Mulder." He wanted to question his identity, but unlike the bounty hunter, this man spoke. "Pfaster is dead. And Agent Scully is ok."

"Where is she?"

Scully appeared at Doggett's side, curious to see who the visitor was.

"Mulder?!" She blurted. Her legs failed her and she dropped like a stone, but Doggett caught her before she hit the floor.

"Dana!" He cried, forgetting Mulder, who followed them, he carried her to the couch and lay her down. After everything she'd been through, he couldn't bear the thought of her enduring any more and he turned on Mulder, throwing him into a wall he barked, "Who are you really? What are you doing here?"

Eying Scully, he replied, "I am Fox Mulder, Agent Doggett. I've come out of hiding to check on my partner."

"She's not your partner anymore." He sneered. Mulder ignored him and tried to move towards Scully, but Doggett threw his arm out to stop him.

"Mulder?" Scully asked from the couch, sitting upright, her consciousness restored, but she remained seated, unsure of her ability to stand. "Is that really you?"

"Yes."

"What if he ain't? Ask him something, Dana, something only he would know." Doggett implored.

"'Dana'?" Mulder satirized disdainfully. "Scully, who is this man to you? What are you doing here?"

"What song did I sing to you in the Florida forest when we were looking for the missing hunter and got stranded?"

"Jeremiah was a bullfrog."

"It's him. Oh God, Mulder, where have you been all this time? I thought you were dead!"

"I've been in hiding. I came out to find you because I heard about Pfaster." He moved towards Scully again, and Doggett begrudgingly let him pass. He hugged her and Doggett unsuccessfully fought bolts of jealousy.

"I thought you were dead!" She choked. They embraced and tears slid down her face. Doggett suddenly felt like an intruder in his own home.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. It was for your own protection."

"Where have you been all this time?"

"I can't tell you. And I can't stay long. I just needed to make sure you were safe."

'She wouldn'ta been if not for me', Doggett thought savagely.

"Scully, I've missed you. Come back with me." Mulder whispered so Doggett wouldn't hear.

"Mulder, that's insane, I have a life here."

"A life? With who? With him?" He jabbed his head in Doggett's direction. "Who is he to you, Scully, what are you doing here? Did you spend the night here?" Mulder questioned accusingly.

"Stop right there." Doggett intervened sharply. "You don't owe him an answer to that."

"It's ok." Scully soothed to Doggett. She turned back to Mulder. "John is my partner and my friend. And I have spent the night here." Mulder stood up as if someone had poured cold water in his lap. "Pfaster attacked me and I was scared." It was not issued as an apology.

"Dana, you don't owe him an explanation!" Doggett ejaculated.

Mulder laughed in disbelief and a sardonic smile twisted his lips. "So what's the deal, Scully, does teamwork get you hot? Because you seem to just jump into bed with who ever your partner is."

Doggett ran over and slugged him for the slur on her honor.

Mulder didn't retaliate, he wiped his bleeding lip with his sleeve and recovered, holding his arms out in surrender and rolling his head as if he was trying to empty it of what had just been said. "Scully, whatever happened here, I don't care. Just come with me." He pleaded.

"You let me think you were dead for a whole year." She said with quiet umbrage.

"I'm sorry. I had to."

"The answer is no, Mulder." She said firmly.

"Scully, think about it," he implored, "think about all we've been through."

"The lady said no, pal." Doggett boasted.

"Scully?"

"I'm sorry Mulder. I'm not going with you. Just go, and be safe."

With a furtive, futile look, Mulder again walked out of her life for the last time.

Doggett let a few moments pass, he gave her time to process what had just transpired, and he asked her a question he already knew the answer too, "Are you ok?"

"Yeah." The true answer was yes and no. Yes, she'd be ok because ultimately, this had been a good kind of shock, Mulder was alive and well. And yes, she'd be ok because she had the good sense not to follow him on the bullshit quest of the day. But no, she wouldn't be ok because she just found out that the person closest to her in her life had lied to her and let her believe he was dead for a year.

Doggett silently sat down beside her and covered her with her afghan, waiting patiently for her to speak. She leaned into him and he put his arm around her. She started to crumple and cry. He held her tightly.

"I don't know what's real anymore." She whimpered unabashedly, comfortable now with letting him see her pain, knowing he would take great care to address her woes.

"I'm real. You're real. Mulder is real, but if you ask me, he's a real asshole."

She laughed in spite of herself and wiped her face. "I can't believe he's alive."

"I know. An' I can't believe he's been hiding from you all year. I know how crazy this must be for you, Dana, but at least he's alive." He paused and brazenly submitted a question he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to. "Are you sure you didn't wanna go with him?"

"I'm sure." She placed a hand on his face and lovingly caressed his stubble. 'God, you are real', she thought. 'So real…'

"I cared for Mulder once, but there's somewhere else I'd rather be."

"Yeah? Where?"

"Here with you. Here with the only man I could ever depend on." Doggett watched as her eyes darkened again, as her pink lips slipped apart, and fresh adrenaline flowed through him. She looked so ready.

He lowered his head and claimed her lips; he kissed her, softly at first until he felt her approval. He felt her moan vibrate in the back of his throat as he kissed her deeply, as he had been dreaming of kissing her for the past year. After several minutes of exploring, they parted, panting.

"I love you, Dana."

"I know. I love you too."

"C'mere…."

An- This story had been sitting in the back of my brain for two years, I'm so glad it's out now. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks Jude!! You're the best!


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